


Sorta Feels Like Winning

by JanecShannon



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, The Pool Scene, sherlock POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-24
Updated: 2015-12-24
Packaged: 2018-05-08 21:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5513942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JanecShannon/pseuds/JanecShannon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was a game and he had lost. But the look in John’s eyes seemed to say, “You’re a good man, Sherlock.” And somehow, that made it seem like winning. </p><p>Or, another one of those Sherlock's POV of The Pool</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sorta Feels Like Winning

**Author's Note:**

> So this has been sitting in my WIP folder for literally years. I wrote this right after S1 finished but never quite polished it up to publishable quality. It does go slight AU in the the dialog isn't perfectly lined up with what happens in the show (I think Moriarty has literally one line that I couldn't resist giving him).

His mind is buzzing. Measuring distances. Estimating reaction times. Calculating options and analyzing possible outcomes. 

__**Action:** Shoot Moriarty  
**Reaction:** Snipers shoot both he and John.  
**Result:** Moriarty dead. Both John and himself dead.  
(Unacceptable outcome) 

"There's only one way out of here for you and your little pet," Moriarty speaks in that irritating tone that would normally not have particularly bothered him (well, no more than anyone else would have) but right now he finds insufferable because it's _interrupting_ him. 

The little red dots rove over his chest and forehead. Moving, moving, moving. Back and forth. Back and forth. Moriarty would have spared no expense for this game. The marksmen would have steady hands, the sights should not be moving that much unless they were far away. Far enough that the tiniest tremor was exaggerated to several inches. 

__**Action:** Shoot the bomb.  
**Reaction:** Bomb explodes and likely kills Moriarty. Chance of injury to John from bomb, possible but unlikely (he would be protected by the wall he was currently sitting against/behind). Chance of injury to himself, unavoidable. Chance of death to himself, highly likely. Chance of snipers losing them in the blast, possible (but more data is needed for him to rely on that). Snipers shoot them in the ensuing chaos.  
**Result:** Moriarty possibly dead. John possibly dead. Himself most likely dead or gravely injured.  
(Unacceptable outcome) 

For the slight tremor in their hands to be so exaggerated, they would be near the end of the range of their weapons. They'd have to be up high, which accounted for some of the shaking (they'd have to be up high to shoot in from the glass window on top of the pool. He could almost hear John in his head, _How do you know they aren't standing right on the roof?_ and he had to hold back a scoff of annoyance as he replied to his Head John, _Hand tremors, John! Do try to keep up._

__**Action:** Shoot bomb then dive into pool.  
**Reaction:** Bomb explodes and likely kills Moriarty. Chance of injury to John from bomb, possible but unlikely. Injury to self, minimal (the water would protect him from the blast as well as any bullets the snipers shot). He would be safe from the snipers for as long as he could hold his breath. He'd be a sitting duck once he came up for air, though, and John would be left unprotected entirely.  
**Result:** Moriarty probably dead. John likely dead. Himself likely dead once he went up for air.  
(Unacceptable outcome) 

And then Sherlock saw it. The one way out. The only way Moriarty could guarantee Sherlock would _back off_ , as it were, was if Sherlock was dead. The detective wasn't entirely sure why the criminal mastermind had presented this opportunity. Perhaps he was curious to see what Sherlock would do? That was the only reason that made sense. John was no threat to Moriarty without Sherlock. The doctor had seen his face, heard his voice, but memory could be an unreliable thing. 

Moriarty would never be caught.

Not by John Watson.

Not without Sherlock.

__**Action:** Shoot the bomb and run to shield John from the bullets.  
**Reaction:** Bomb explodes and likely kills Moriarty. Sherlock, himself, takes the bullets meant for John (three to the torso with a chance of hitting the spine) and possibly the bullets meant for himself as well. Chance of bullet going through him and hitting John, possible but at greatly diminished speed reducing risk to injury rather than fatality.  
**Result:** Moriarty probably dead. John injured, but alive. Himself, dead without immediate medical attention. 

"You see it, don't you?" Moriarty continued. "Your only way out of here is in a body bag."

He thinks he hates the fact that Moriarty isn't lying. Sherlock isn't overly familiar with hate. He knows annoyance and anger. Extreme dislike, even. But for all his (sometimes childish) claims to hate this or that, hate --pure, unadulterated hate-- has always alluded him. His mind is already coolly cataloging the reactions the feelings and a small part is excitedly explaining it all to Head John. This isn't a conversation he'll get to have later, so he feels it's justified to have it in his head now. 

At the last moment he stops his eyes from flicking over to the doctor, not wanting to take them off the criminal before him, but then he allows them to glide smoothly over anyway. Moriarty won't do anything. He holds all the cards, he has them where he wants them, and Sherlock is curious. 

John's thoughts are presented to him on his face as though the doctor were holding up a flashing neon sign with them written on. Determination they'll get through this together, worry that Moriarty is telling the truth, but most of all hope that Sherlock will get them out of it. That he'll speak the one word that will make this all better: _Wrong._

He holds the doctor's eyes for a moment before turning away. Because he knows how this ends. He knows there really isn't an option but Head John is already scolding him that this is a decision _Real_ John would probably want to be included in, that they would be having a conversation about this later (if there was a later). But _damnit_ there aren't any other options and for just a moment he half considers deleting Head John because these conversation only seem to _slow him down._

It's purely logical that he he saves what life he can and even Head John has to give him that one (even if he knows Real John wouldn't). But isn't this what Real John wanted from him? To care about others lives? Or even just one other person's life? So, could Head John please kindly shut up because he can see Moriarty's patience is wearing thin and he really would just like to get this over with already. He's mildly surprised when Head John complies but doesn't question it. 

Something must have shown on his face because Moriarty's face contorts with a sudden look of interest tinged with the tiniest amount of surprise. He'd left Sherlock this option but he honestly hadn't expected him to take it. The detective feels a bit smug at that and he feels surprisingly glad when Head John tells him he's actually rather proud of him. And he resists the urge to remind Head John that he's not doing this for pride or any of those other silly moral reasons. It's purely logical. Save what you can. Take the only option. 

He's not a hero. 

He doesn't want to be.

But he knows what John needs to hear at this moment, he knows what he needs to say. This is a game and Moriarty has called him the loser. 

"Wrong," he tells him and aims at the vest on the floor. The next second he will be crouched over Real John but he knows he has not lied to Moriarty.

Because somehow it will feel like winning when Head John whispers _You're a good man_ as he waits for the bullets to hit.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [tumblr](http://janecshannon.tumblr.com), come say hi!


End file.
